


43

by PineTrain



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Absurd, Cliffhangers, Dating, F/M, Helicopters, Pizza, Sunsets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-25 00:05:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16185971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PineTrain/pseuds/PineTrain





	43

**Anonymous** asked:

How about a simple dinner date (could be wendip, wenpines, or pinecest)

Found this barely started in my drafts, guess I fell asleep writing it? Finished it now in any case. Wendip btw

* * *

Dipper stared blankly at the absurd play before him. 

Normally a pizza delivery would be considered something pretty simple, but he and Wendy were currently on the sheer rock of a mountain. Metal spikes supported their precarious rest area, barely large enough for the two of them, and he had felt there was legitimate concern that even the weight of a pizza could be enough to throw them into the depths below when Wendy laughed off his fears and placed the order. Of course, that was small potatoes of a question compared to the fact they were ordering a pizza in their situation. 

Yet the deliveryman came within 45 minutes, as promised on the coupon. Dangling from a helicopter by a thick rope, he had swung over like Tarzan and swiftly implanted some sort of drilling device into the hard rock to secure himself. He made his way over towards them with uncanny dexterity along the tiniest of outcroppings, only hammering in a second pick when he reached them. Hooking himself to it and putting away his tools, he took a relaxed posture and pulled a receipt out of a pocket.

“Meat Lovers for ‘Wendy’?” he asked.

“That’s us!” she answered.

“Okay, sign here, please. Try not to drop it,” he said, handing over the receipt. Patting himself around, he found a pen and passed it over as well.

As Wendy signed, he reached into his backpack and extracted a cardboard box connected to him by a small clamp and wire. He unhooked and traded it for the signed receipt.

“Have a nice evening!” he said. Dipper watched as he pulled out the pick and casually made his way back to the drill.

“Check it! Calzone!” Wendy cried, tearing his attention away from the deliveryman’s precarious return to the helicopter and to the box in her lap.

“I thought we ordered a pizza?” Dipper asked. After such a weird delivery, he appreciated being able to ask such a normal question.

“That dude was carrying it on his back. A pizza would be all squished to one side,” Wendy said. “Calzone’s better for delivery, even if it’s a bit harder to eat like this.” 

Dipper reflected on the small area they had and the substantial fall below. They’d have to be pretty careful not to lose their food as they cut into it with utensils. Sliced pizza would have been easier for sure. Still, they managed to maneuver the box between them so they could eat as the sun set over the horizon. 

Their perch afforded them a fantastic view of the beautiful colors spreading across the sky and softly illuminating the green boughs of the trees below. It was the sort of sight that people think of when they hear the phrase “breath-taking” and yet, at the same time, the simplicity of the meal gave the mundane feeling of merely sitting comfortably on a couch. It was a wonderful contrast that sent a wave of relaxation through him, the aches of the climb fading beneath its substantial press. He glanced at Wendy and she shot him a wink as she munched on a bite.

As ridiculous a service as it was, Dipper hoped this particular pizza place could stay in business for years to come.


End file.
